When he looks at them, his eyes twinkle. When she pets them, she is amazed by their crispy crust and fluffy crumb, which looks like a glass maze. When he tries them, she confirms what she already knew. “They came out perfect,” says Pedro Heras, 35, from Malaga, while he takes the last muffins of the day out of the oven. It is ten in the morning and this baker has practically ready the 1,600 that he makes daily. He makes them, at dawn, in a humble oven in Benaoján, a white town in Malaga hidden in the Serranía de Ronda. From there, this miracle made of flour, water, yeast, salt and sourdough travels to the kitchens of luxury hotels, well-known restaurants and lucky individuals throughout Spain. “It is exceptional for the quality of the dough, the humidity, its crunchiness, its fragility. It is, without a doubt, one of the great products of the mountains,” confirms Benito Gómez, chef with two Michelin stars in Bardal (Ronda) and who serves them in his other Ronda restaurant, Tragatá, with marinated bacon, cabbage, chipotle mayonnaise. and cilantro (6.50 euros).More informationThe molletes of the Obrador Máximo are the pride of Benaoján, a name that is believed to come from an Arabic word that means, precisely, “baker's house.” In all the restaurants and cafes in the town they serve them at breakfast time. In one of them, the El Encuentro bar, Heras himself frequently comes to taste his work with Mariano bacon, fried egg, caramelized onion and aioli (4 euros, coffee included). It is usually his only rest, around half past six in the morning, when he has already been in the bakery for three hours and the rolls face their second fermentation. “This is a lot of work. It's very screwed up because everything is made by hand, except the dough,” explains Heras back at the bakery while his phone catches fire. He does not stop receiving calls and messages from clients with new requests. Names like those of chef José Andrés and orders like the 10,000 muffins that this year will supply the Mutua Madrid Tennis Open in Madrid appear on his WhatsApp. “The demand is so high that I only make muffins,” the baker emphasizes. The rest of the team, his father —Pedro Heras— and the baker Miguel Ángel Villalba, also make other breads of a quarter or half a kilo, as well as chicharrones cakes.Heras, in the workshop with his wife and mother. García-Santos (El País)Molletes are rolls of Arab origin, but the successful recipe for those prepared in the Obrador Máximo was born in 1892 by Heras's great-great-grandmother, Isabel Gil, who then worked in a bakery change one piece of bread a day. His great-grandfather Máximo later decided to found – about a century ago – his own business, which has since been passed down from generation to generation. The family transmission was about to end because Heras was not destined for this profession: his father always wanted him away from the oven. He flirted with Economics in Granada and International Marketing in Malaga, but finally ended up, back in town, in his cousin's bar. His command of English took him to the nearby Molino del Santo hotel. Until a decade ago he returned to the family path when his then girlfriend, now his wife, Sandra Gamero, had to leave his job. “We decided to reinforce the bakery with a line of sweets, because she is crazy about them,” she remembers.


A process based on palms and brushes
Every morning, Pedro Heras grabs 80 kilos of flour—from the Malaga towns of Pizarra and Coín, as well as from La Rambla, in Córdoba—and adds “a lot of water” as well as sourdough, salt and yeast. The ingredients are mixed for more than half an hour in the kneader—the only machine in the entire process—until a surprisingly elastic dough is generated. The baker extracts small pieces from it that he lets ferment for around 45 minutes covered in flour. Then he pats them—to eliminate that excess flour—and then leaves them for another two hours of fermentation, a time that varies depending on the weather and the wind that blows in the town. With bubbles about to burst and a gelatinous density, the muffins are baked for ten minutes at high temperature. “As it has a lot of water, the dough needs a lot of heat to rise and little time so that it doesn't toast too much,” says Heras. His mother, Marisol Aguilar, is in charge, along with Sandra Gamero, of the final touch: a quick brushing to remove any remaining flour. It is a quick gesture that they do like automatons, a skill acquired after cleaning thousands of muffins over the years. After packaging, also manual, they are ready to travel throughout Spain. You can follow EL PAÍS Gastro on Instagram and x.